


What Do You Say?

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: What...? series [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot for the story 'What I Did For Love'</p><p>Kurt and Sebastian are getting ready for their weekly Friday night dinner at the Spotlight Diner with their friends, so why is Sebastian so devastated when a freak snowstorm threatens to cancel their plans?</p><p>Warnings for mention of Blaine/Klaine. AU, romance, fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Do You Say?

“Snow…Goddamned motherfucking snow…why did it have to be snow…”

Sebastian paces in front of the picture window of his penthouse giving him an incredible view of Manhattan…and the freak blizzard covering it in layer upon layer of snow, with no apparent end in sight. He mutters curses in English and in French as he side-eyes the window, checking every now and then to see if the snow storm would miraculously stop simply because he keeps telling Mother Nature to go fuck herself.

“How can it be snowing this hard in April?” he groans, smacking a hand against the glass.

“Are you cursing at the weather again?” Kurt chuckles, sauntering in from the bedroom after three hours spent getting ready for dinner. He comes up behind his taciturn boyfriend and wraps his arms around Sebastian’s waist, halting his relentless pacing. “I’m sure that the gang will understand if we’re a no-show for dinner, hmm?” He squeezes Sebastian against him when his words seem to offer no comfort. “Maybe we can join them for brunch on Sunday if the weather clears by then."

Sebastian sighs, winding his arms around Kurt’s. He bows his head and leans forward, resting his forehead against the cool glass, shutting his eyes so he doesn’t have to see each falling flake destroying his carefully laid out plans.

Of course Kurt is right. The gang won’t mind if they have to back out of their weekly Friday night dinner at the Spotlight Diner…that is if they were all meeting up at the Spotlight Diner as usual. But they are supposed to be meeting Rachel and Blaine and Mercedes and the rest of the Scooby Crew at the Four Seasons. Burt and Carole are supposed to be there, too, by now, if their plane hadn’t been delayed by the storm. Now the two are sitting at gate 11 waiting anxiously for the go ahead to board.

Because this isn’t any old Friday night. It’s supposed to be the most important Friday night of Kurt and Sebastian’s life.

“Sebastian?”

Kurt’s voice pierces through the film of Sebastian’s thoughts and brings him back to the present – alone in Sebastian’s warm and cozy penthouse where they’d been living together ever since Sebastian managed to lure Kurt out of his cramped shoebox apartment.

Actually it didn’t take all that much persuasion. When the first massive cockroach/rat invasion hit, Kurt practically had everything packed up and waiting on Sebastian’s threshold. After the bedbug incident he had to endure back when he was living with Rachel and Blaine, Kurt had sworn off any place plagued by infestation, especially when he was dead set that both insect and rodent were banding together to defeat him.

Sebastian would have milked it for all it was worth, teased Kurt within an inch of his life, if not for the fact that Kurt moving in with him – not into his sublet, but physically _with_ him – was exactly what he wanted.

Sebastian had never felt so indebted to vermin in his entire life.

“Sebastian? What’s wrong?”

“Why do you think anything’s wrong?” Sebastian doesn’t even try to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Well, you seem really heartbroken about missing dinner tonight,” Kurt points out, “and that’s not really like you.”

“That’s not true,” Sebastian continues in a flat, defeated voice, peeking down at the street through his eyelids and then shutting his eyes again. “You know how much I _love_ having dinner every Friday with your friends and your ex…”

“I thought you said that if we skipped Friday night dinners at the Spotlight we could order in Thai and have more time to fuck?” Kurt kids, trying to lift Sebastian’s sour mood.

“Yeah, well, I’m not wrong about that.”

Sebastian shakes his head.

“And,” Kurt says, turning Sebastian away from the window, “you didn’t notice that I’m wearing the brand new Alexander McQueen pants you bought me. The ones you made me promise I would wear tonight.”

Sebastian opens his eyes and looks at Kurt, really looks at him, from his carefully coifed hair (newly highlighted bangs courtesy of Vogue swept up in his signature hairstyle), to his smartly tailored burgundy Burberry shirt, down to the new McQueen pants. Kurt had originally refused Sebastian’s insistence on buying him the $300 pants, but there is no denying that they look like they were made with Kurt and only Kurt in mind. Kurt performs a spin in place so Sebastian can see them from all angles, and Sebastian stares shamelessly, appreciating every inch of the shimmering fabric clinging to Kurt’s muscular legs, the mold of the waist band around his trim stomach, the snug way they cradle his delicious ass.

In Sebastian’s opinion, buying these pants is the best money he has ever spent.

Then he remembers.

They’re the second best money he’s ever spent.

“Well,” Kurt says, posing for full effect, “how do I look?”

Sebastian can only manage a partial smile at the brilliance that is Kurt Hummel.

“You look…perfect,” Sebastian says with a sigh of regret. “Fucking perfect as always, Goddamnit!”

Sebastian storms away, leaving a perplexed Kurt standing alone at the window staring at a never ending cascade of snow.

“Wh…what the hell, Sebastian?” Kurt yells, following Sebastian through the living room into the master bedroom, finding him sitting at the end of the king-sized bed, frantically texting on his iPhone. “What’s your problem?”

“None of your business, princess,” Sebastian says, not looking up, his voice a thin façade of calm threatening to break any minute.

“None of my business?” Kurt repeats, his voice rising with anger and confusion. “You’re moody and upset over a stupid dinner, Sebastian…”

Sebastian glares up at Kurt, eyes burning through him with unexplained and unexpected rage.

“ _Stupid_ dinner?” Sebastian growls, his jaw locked around the words, caging his sharp tongue. “Stupid dinner?” Sebastian stands from the bed, and Kurt steps back.

“Yes, Sebastian,” Kurt says, matching Sebastian’s intensity but not his anger, wanting desperately to cool his boyfriend’s impending tantrum and rescue the evening. “Stupid dinner. It’s the same thing every Friday. You’ll have a burger, I’ll have a salad, Rachel will whine about her new Broadway show, Blaine will complain about June and some crazy scheme she has him wrapped up in, and then you and me will call it a night. Probably come back here for some naked Pictionary, Seb.”

“Oh, so I’m that predictable then?” Sebastian says, the words still angry but coming across as a challenge; a challenge that Kurt isn’t sure how to take.

“I…I didn’t say that, Seb,” Kurt says, feeling an alarming need to defend himself. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You think you know everything about me, Hummel?” Sebastian’s voice drops to a whisper as he advances on Kurt, hands secure on his hips pushing him towards the wall. “You think you know me so fucking well?”

Kurt stands his ground, not making it easy for Sebastian to move him from his spot, smiling at the grunts of effort Sebastian makes when Kurt’s feet don’t budge.

“I think I know you well enough.” Kurt juts his chin defiantly.

“Yeah? What do you know about me?”

Kurt can’t help the mood he’s in, the aggravation at Sebastian’s spoiled attitude simmering beneath the surface of his skin.

“I know you can be a real asshole when you want to be,” Kurt blurts out without thinking.

“Really?” Sebastian says with mock interest, a smirk of triumph splitting his lips when he finally manages to push Kurt into the corner and block him in with his body.

“Yup.” Kurt tries to pretend the close proximity of Sebastian’s body doesn’t affect him, especially now when he wants to be furious with him, but he can’t. They act on each other like magnets – Sebastian pushes and Kurt pulls, until even in this state of utter and complete irritation, all Kurt wants to do is tear the Brooks Brothers shirt from Sebastian’s chest and devour every inch of his smooth, tanned skin. “In fact, you’re so good at it I don’t think you even realize when you’re doing it anymore. It’s part of who you are now.”

“So, I’m an asshole?” The teasing trace in Sebastian’s voice dissolves almost completely, his face contorting back to anger, but this time with hurt in the mix.

Kurt wants to explain himself, but Sebastian leans in close, and pins him with his stare.

“Would an asshole visit you in the hospital and stand by your door while you slept to make sure you’re okay?”

Kurt’s eyes went wide.

“Sebastian, you never told me…”

“Would an asshole follow you around New York City, trying to keep you safe?”

“Sweetheart, I…”

“Would an asshole offer you a place to live rent free so you don’t have to spend the rest of your life with a douche?”

Kurt stops trying to interrupt and simply shakes his head, wanting Sebastian to stop, to give him space to breathe. Sebastian looks into Kurt’s face and notices his shocked expression and backs away.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Kurt. It’s just…” Sebastian walks off toward the window where the falling snow seems to have doubled in volume. “This wasn’t just any Friday night. But if I’m just some asshole, maybe this was actually a blessing.”

“What do you mean?” Kurt asks quietly, slowly crossing the room to join him. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“What?” Sebastian asks, eyes trained outside. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I…”

Sebastian spins around so fast he almost falls forward onto his smirking boyfriend.

“Wait? You knew?”

Kurt shrugs, biting his tongue and forcing himself not to look too smug.

“How…”

“Little things,” Kurt divulges. “You’re not that good at keeping secrets, and like I said, I know you well enough.”

Sebastian sighs, shrinking beneath Kurt’s softening gaze.

“I wanted everything to be perfect for once,” Sebastian confesses, dropping his eyes to his feet.

Kurt takes Sebastian’s hand in his, pulling gently to coax Sebastian’s eyes up.

“Well?” Kurt asks.

“Well, what?” Sebastian says, looking at the hand holding his.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?”

Sebastian’s eyes rise to meet Kurt’s

“But your dad’s flying in. With Carole. And everyone you know is coming to dinner to see,” Sebastian argues. “Don’t you want to wait?”

Kurt shakes his head with a small smile.

“Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough?”

Sebastian takes a sharp breath in, stunned and silent for a second. Then he pats down his pockets madly, and Kurt giggles knowing exactly what he’s searching for.

“Uh…” Sebastian fishes the small rounded black box from his pocket, and even without its blue outer box Kurt knows this ring is from Tiffany’s. Sebastian looks around the room, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his mind working furiously. He leads Kurt to the bed and sits him down, dropping to a knee between Kurt’s legs. Kurt waits as Sebastian opens his mouth and closes it. He looks down at his hands, opens his mouth, and closes it again. He clears his throat, fiddling with the box in his hands. Kurt wants to lay a reassuring hand in Sebastian’s hair, but he holds still instead.

“Kurt, I’m…I’m not really good at things like this,” Sebastian starts, still eying the little black box holding a huge portion of his future happiness inside. “Flowery words and huge displays aren’t really my forte, as you can see. I couldn’t even get everyone together for dinner.”

Kurt nods, fighting back a nervous chuckle.

Sebastian pauses again and Kurt thinks that might be the end of it, that Sebastian will shove the box in his hand without another word, and Kurt realizes that would be fine.

There really isn’t anything Sebastian needs to say. He doesn’t need to convince Kurt to say yes.

Sebastian laughs once and looks up at Kurt.

“I love you, Kurt,” Sebastian says with a shrug. “I think…no, I’m sure I always have, and if I was a different kind of person, I would have fought for you…” Sebastian swallows hard, looking mildly contrite, “…but you’re right. I am an asshole. I acted like a jerk, and I didn’t treat you the way you deserved to be treated.”

“And how do I deserve to be treated?” Kurt asks out of blind, morbid curiosity.

“You deserve to be treated like a prince,” Sebastian responds without hesitation. “You deserve to be told how breathtaking you are every day….” Sebastian takes Kurt’s hand, his left hand, the hand whose ring finger has lain bare ever since Kurt moved out of the loft, and kisses it across the knuckles. “You deserve to be worshipped and made love to and have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Kurt’s whole body trembles with every kiss, his heart stuttering with every word, and a sudden surge of urgency fills his body straight to his bones. He wants Sebastian to end this wonderful torture and ask him already.

“So I’m hoping,” Sebastian continues, his whispered voice racing along Kurt’s skin, “that maybe this can be the beginning of me worshipping you for the rest of my life.”

Sebastian lets go of Kurt’s hand long enough to produce the black box and open it. Kurt gasps at the simple platinum band inside, a pair of two diamonds studding the band in four places around the ring; such a different ring from the one that Blaine had given him on that Dalton staircase so long ago.

A different ring for a very different promise.

Sebastian smirks at Kurt’s dazed expression of awe.

“So, what do you say, Kurt?” Sebastian says, pulling the ring from the box and holding it in front of Kurt’s ring finger, waiting to slip it on. “Are you going to marry me or not?”

Kurt is caught in what he’s sure is a dream. He’s been in this position dozens of times, and each time he’s woken up before his alarm, disappointed and heartbroken.

“Ask me again?” Kurt pleads, looking from the ring to Sebastian’s smiling green eyes, back down to the beautiful ring.

Sebastian kneels up straight, his lips hovering shy of Kurt’s ear.

“My gorgeous, amazingly talented Kurt…my boyfriend…my lover…the best friend I’ve ever had…will you marry me?”

Kurt holds his breath, wanting to linger in this moment a while longer, but he’s already nodding yes, the ring fitting itself onto his finger, and when he finally opens his mouth to say the word, it’s a choked, insignificant sound, swallowed by Sebastian’s mouth on his because they both knew from the start that there wasn’t any other option for Kurt than to accept.

“So, when are our friends expecting us?” Kurt asks, refusing to remove his lips from his fiancé’s mouth.

“In about two hours,” Sebastian says, “but I think we’ll have to wait for tomorrow to see your dad and Carole.”

Kurt smiles.

“So, we have some time to make love before dinner?”

“Hmmm, I guess we do,” Sebastian agrees, “provided we make it there at all.”

Kurt scoots back on the bed and Sebastian crawls after him.

“Are you going to take off your ring so they can watch me propose to you all over again?” Sebastian asks, unbuttoning Kurt’s shirt.

“Nope,” Kurt says simply, starting with the buttons on Sebastian’s pants.

“Uh-oh,” Sebastian laughs. “I think Berry’s going to flip her shit if she finds out she missed it.”

“Well, then she’s just going to have to learn to deal with it,” Kurt says, cupping a hand beneath Sebastian’s chin and pulling his eyes up to meet his. “Because this ring is never coming off my finger.”


End file.
